Genesis Gundam
by quinnelise
Summary: A visit to Quatre's house proves interesting for someone, and not in the way you might expect.
1. Genesis Gundam: Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters. This is just some fictional story that I came up with while desperate in the south for something to do. Enjoy, and send comments.

Genesis Gundam

Prologue

It was a stupid decision. She told herself that time and time again. There was no way he would want to see her, not after what had happened the last time. To be perfectly honest, she didn't want to see him. It had been Relena's suggestion to come and check on how Quatre was doing. The princess had told her that she owed the boy something, especially after stabbing him. Dorothy frowned as she approached the doorstep; she didn't owe Quatre anything. It had been during a war, for god's sake. The fool had not fought his best, so it was really _his_ fault that he had been stabbed!

She sighed and adjusted her sun hat with one hand; the glare in Arabia was unbearable. Dorothy scowled at the fruit basket she had been made to bring.

"Think of it as an apology gesture!" Relena had said. Dorothy rang the doorbell, and waited patiently. After what seemed an eternity to her, a servant answered the door.

"Is the master of the house at home?" she asked. Just because she didn't like the situation did not mean she didn't have to be polite; it was something her grandfather had taught her years ago.

"…You're that girl from the Libra," the tall bearded man said disdainfully. "You have some nerve coming here."

_'It wasn't my idea,'_ she thought. Instead, she said, "I came to…see how Quatre was holding up."

"I don't think Quatre-sama has time for an audience with someone who tried to kill him," the man replied gruffly.

"…Then at least give him this fruit basket," Dorothy offered. "You don't even have to tell him who it's from." _'Not that I want him to know.'_

"Hmph!" And with that, the door was slammed in her face.

"Well, can't say I didn't try," she said carelessly as she turned to leave. A different voice came from behind the door.

"I don't care who it was. There's no need to be so rude as to slam the door in someone's face, Rasid." Quatre, scolding his man for doing what would probably be a favor to both she and the boy alike. The door reopened and she turned back around, a stream of fine blonde hair spinning around her back.

"Dorothy, how nice to see you," Quatre said kindly. He was in khakis and a pink shirt with a lavender vest, and was leaning heavily on a cane. His pale skin was paler, if such a thing were possible; she knew it was because of all the blood he had lost when…

"Likewise, Quatre," she said. He smiled, and beckoned her inside.

"What brings you here?" he asked. She pursed her lips together, and forced the words out.

"I came to see how your recovery was going."

"You did? How considerate." Dorothy could not get over the fact that he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. 

"You mean to see the damage you've done," the tall man interjected.

"Rasid, please. And you brought a fruit basket, too. Thank you."

"Likely poisoned," Rasid muttered.

"Rasid!" Quatre hissed, giving the man a reproachful look. He turned back to Dorothy and smiled weakly. "It looks delicious."

"Yes, well…enjoy them." She handed him the basket; he held it awkwardly in one arm and struggled to readjust his weight on the cane. "And now I bid you farewell, Quatre." Dorothy turned to open the door.

"Wait," Quatre said. She stopped, mid-reach for the handle. "You are a long way from home, aren't you?"

"The flight will only be a few hours," she said quietly.

"You just got here. It seems silly to leave so soon." He glanced at the basket. "And I don't think I can eat all this fruit by myself. Why don't you stay a while?"

_'This is too strange. Say no. Say. No.'_

"Why not?" she sighed, without knowing why. The plan had been to decline, not accept! "I've got no where else to be. I'll stay." The Arabian boy smiled again, and limped off to the kitchen.

"Don't think we won't be watching you," Rasid said as she started to follow. Dorothy turned her head and raised one forked eyebrow coolly.

"I don't blame you. I'd watch me too."

***

Dorothy watched Quatre carefully as she ate her peach. He sat across the table from her, munching on an apple. To be honest, she felt more comfortable with Rasid's scrutiny and suspicion. Why was he being so, well, nice? He hadn't mentioned a thing about the incident on the Libra, had not shot her so much as a disapproving look, and had done nothing but be courteous and sweet. He acted as if nothing had happened. As if they were old friends catching up with one another.

"The doctors say that I'm recovering quickly."

"Then why do you have that?" she asked, gesturing to the cane.

"The doctors are also paranoid," he laughed. "They don't want me exerting myself too much." '_Right. You wouldn't know what exertion was if it hit you in the face,'_ Dorothy thought with a hint of disgust. This pampered little desert prince exerting himself? It was laughable. "I apologize for Rasid's behavior," the boy said. "He's paranoid too." She shrugged.

"No, he's not. He's smart. He doesn't trust me," she stated indifferently. "He has every reason not to, and so do you.

"Yes, but I do trust you," he told her mildly. Dorothy wrinkled her nose. His sunny disposition was really starting to disgust her. She wished she could be anywhere but sitting at a table across from those wide, trusting eyes.

"Why?" she asked lowly.

"To be honest, I don't know," Quatre admitted. Dorothy began to wonder why it was that she hadn't killed this boy. The idea was tempting, especially now. True, she had left him to die, but why hadn't she just finished the job? Something had stopped her. A twinge in her stomach, if she was remembering correctly. The boy had gotten a few attacks in, yes, but she couldn't remember any to her midriff. "I just do," he said, interrupting her train of thought. She glared at him.

"You shouldn't. Trusting people is going to get you killed one day."

"You didn't kill me," he reminded her. "I'd have thought you of all people would have."

"Baka!" she spat, fed up with both him and herself. "What is wrong with you? You're sitting there, eating fruit with someone who tried to kill you, and who really doesn't like you that much."

Before she could ask herself, Quatre said, "Then…why did you come here?" She didn't really know the answer. She wanted to blame it on Relena, but there was something else. Something that had drawn her here to check on this boy. Angered, she reached across the table and smacked Quatre.

There was a small yellow flash, then both teens were sent flying in opposite directions. Dorothy skidded to a far wall, slamming against it with her shoulder. Quatre, whose wall was closer, sat against it, dazed.

"D-Dorothy!" he exclaimed when he regained his senses. "Are you all right?" Without thinking, he tried to get up. His injured side protested, and he grunted, sinking back down to the floor.

On the other side of the room, Dorothy let out a cry and clutched at her side. The twinge from that fight on the Libra was back tenfold. She felt as though someone was driving a hot poker through her insides. Where was this pain coming from? Why was this happening to her? She looked Quatre's way, and realized he too was holding his side and grimacing.

"Dorothy," he said between gasps. "Can you…can you stand?" He tried to get up again, but had to give up and sit. Dorothy inhaled sharply as the pain assailed her once more.

"Don't move," she told him. There was something going on here. She hurt terribly, and realized her hands were shaking. The boy across the room was also shaking. Slowly, Dorothy rose to her feet. She walked unsteadily across the room, towards Quatre. As she got closer, he shifted to lean against the wall more comfortably. Her knees buckled, and she held her side with both hands. "I said don't move!" Dorothy snapped.

"G-gomen," Quatre said weakly. Crawling now, Dorothy finally made it to where Quatre was sitting. She reached out carefully and poked his stomach; there was another small spark but nothing caused them to repel this time. He hissed and she recoiled when there was a pang in her own middle.

"What's happening to me?" she asked. "Everything that hurts you is hurting me."

"Wh-what?" he said, not understanding. Dorothy narrowed her eyes at him, then decided to try something. She tapped her own tender shoulder, and was not surprised when Quatre winced. "My shoulder, it just…"

"Do you see what I'm saying now?" Dorothy asked, moving to sit next to him. "Something's up."

"Yeah, but what?" he asked.

"If I knew," she said, condescending, "then I would tell you."

"Aa. Sorry."

"And could you try to be in less pain? It's really distracting."

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Baka," she laughed. "You can't do anything about being in pain. Don't apologize for it. And don't apologize for apologizing. I mean it. Or I'll smack you again." Or maybe she wouldn't, since smacking him seemed to lead them into this mess. Now that she thought about it, her cheek stung. Terrific.

"Did you feel anything before you hit me?" he said. She shook her head.

"No. Nothing serious. A little bit of a tick in my side, which was easily ignored. Now, I feel like-"

"Like you were stabbed a while ago and still recovering?"

"…Yes. Exactly," she replied, annoyed. "Okay, let's retrace what happened. I was calling you a fool for letting me come in and sit with you. Then you asked…"

"Why you were here," he said.

"Yes, then I got mad and smacked you."

"Then the light, you felt my pain, and I felt yours. Dorothy, this is starting to scare me."

"Suck it up," she growled. "If we don't figure this out, you'll really have something to be scared of." He thought a moment.

"That light happened again when you poked me. But we didn't go flying that time."

"…What are you getting at?" Quatre held up a hand.

"Give me your hand," he said. She frowned at him, skeptical. "It's the only way to know if I'm right. Like you said, this all started when you smacked me, and it happened again when you poked me. The bottom line is this has something to do with-"

"Touch," she finished. Quatre nodded. Dorothy sighed, and raised her hand level with his. Their palms touched, with another amber flash. In that instant Dorothy got a strange invaded feeling. She yanked her hand away, startled, then realized Quatre looked just as confused.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she said, trying not to appear so afraid. Slowly, Quatre reached out again, and she did the same. This time they held their hands together, despite the light and the feeling.

Nothing at first.

Then, suddenly, her nervous system was on a high; nothing she had ever felt before, nothing she could place or even name. Quatre's thoughts impressed upon her mind, and on some level she knew the same thing was happening to him. Memories, emotions, thoughts, everything hit her at once. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation. It was almost too much, but their palms remained pressed together.

They heard Rasid calling to Quatre, and then his arm was on either one of them. He pried them apart, and they both fell to the floor. Each cried out as the other's injury was jarred. Dorothy was breathing heavily, and Quatre was doing the same.

"S-sugoi," he breathed. Then they both passed out.


	2. Genesis Gundam: Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters or machines, etc

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters or machines, etc. Please send comments.

Genesis Gundam

Chapter One

"Mind telling me what the hell that was?" Dorothy demanded. Quatre shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"I wish I knew," he sighed. "It felt like…like I was inside your head. I got all these feelings and memories. There was more, but I didn't get to see it."

"Good," she muttered. "The last thing I want is you knowing my life."

"I don't think you have any control over it," Quatre said quietly, looking down at the table. "Otherwise I wouldn't have seen anything." He glanced up to make sure she was paying attention. "Dorothy, did you see anything?" She was quiet; he thought she hadn't heard, or was ignoring him, or was too shocked by what happened to remember anything.

But she did remember. Everything.

She had seen Quatre's life at the start of his memory, when he was four. His father had been there, and many of his sisters. Though he loved them, she had sensed a disconnection. As if the only boy in the family, doted on by all of his relatives, did not fit in. That feeling was constant throughout the memories she had received. While he remained polite and giving, there was also a need. Like he felt acting such a way would bring someone to him. Someone who would get rid of the lonely feeling. Someone who would make him complete.

Flashes of the war, of the other boys, had also been shown to her. They had provided some comfort to Quatre, but the feeling of being separate did not go away.

Then there were memories of her. Seeing her during his time in the Sanq kingdom, how they had known of one another's influence during the battle of the mobile dolls, finding her while onboard the Libra. His emotions in her presence were confused; he was drawn to her, but at the same time eager to keep away from her.

They had been pulled apart at that point, and she was glad for that. Wasn't she?

"Dorothy?" the Arabian was saying. "Are you awake?" She shook it off, and looked at Quatre.

"I'm fine. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you saw anything."

"Oh. Yes, I did."

"All I can come up with is that we have some sort of connection, and it only happened after we touched."

"Liar," she interrupted. "It happened before, too. And you know it. I saw your thoughts. It's just gotten stronger now that we've touched."

"…Well I've seen your thoughts too. It _was_ happening before. But why?"

_'How the hell should I know?'_ she thought irritably.

"I wasn't saying you knew. I was asking myself more than you," Quatre said, a little defensive. Dorothy blinked rapidly at him.

"Wh-what?"

"…Did you just say what I heard, or think it?"

"I know I didn't say it," she said.

"…Then the connection is also a mental one, as well as physical. And when we come into contact with one another, it's amplified greatly."

"This is too strange. I'm leaving." She stood from her seat, and rushed out of the kitchen and to the door. Quatre stood as quickly as he could, and hobbled after her, ignoring the pain. By the time he reached the door, she was curled into a protective ball in front of it, eyes squeezed shut and fighting off tears.

"Dorothy," he panted, leaning against the wall.

"Don't move," she pleaded. "Just…don't move. It hurts too much." Quatre couldn't stand up to the overflow of emotion that was hitting him from Dorothy. He gulped as he felt her confusion, anger, and fear.

"Dorothy," he started again. "I don't think you should leave. If I should get hurt, you'll feel it. And it might not be in front of a door. It could be behind the wheel of a car, or worse." She looked up at him, her teeth bared.

"Don't you dare give me sympathy," she snarled. "I don't need another thing from you. He edged closer.

"All I'm saying is, if we want to figure this out, I think we need to work together. We are both involved in it, ne?" Carefully, he bent down to place a hand on her shoulder. She jumped to her feet and leapt away from him before he had the chance.

"Don't touch me," she warned. He nodded slowly.

"Granted. I know it's frightening."

"I'm not frightened!" she argued.

"You are," he told her. "I can feel it. And I am too. I'm sure you can feel that." She could, but she didn't admit to it. "Please, don't leave. Not until we find out what's going on." Dorothy fretted, crossed her arms nervously; she didn't want to spend another second in this house, not with him. She wished she'd never come here.

But she had. And Quatre had a point. If this were to happen at the wrong moment, then she could be severely hurt, or worse, killed. And then what would happen to him? This was all too much. At least here she knew she would be safe, and they would have time to think.

'_You're making the right decision.'_ She froze, listening to Quatre's voice, though his lips were not moving. She glared at him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I couldn't help but hear."

"Well, you know what I'm going to say. So long as you don't touch me, I'll stay."

"Good," he sighed. They started up the stairs, where he would show her a room to stay in.

"And take it easy. I don't enjoy falling to the ground every time you push yourself too far."

"Aa," Quatre smiled. "Gomen ne." She let him apologize this time. She thought she at least deserved that.

***

It had to be around 4:00 in the morning. Dorothy tossed and turned in her bed, but could not fall asleep. Quatre was also awake; she knew this because she could hear his thoughts. It was driving her crazy. He was so afraid, so unsure. He was trying to think of explanations for the link between them, was trying to make sense of the parts of Dorothy he had seen, and how to go about talking to her in the morning.

_'Do you mind?'_ she thought angrily. All of Quatre's thoughts stopped.

_'What am I doing?'_

'Thinking! I can hear everything! Stop it!'

'Dorothy, you know I can't stop thinking. I've been feeling your irritation and I'm sorry. But this really has me worked up.'

'Then at least think about something else!' Dorothy snapped at him. Something stirred in her stomach; she knew he was sorry, and it was hurting him to have inconvenienced her so. Why did he have to be so emotional? She wished this had happened with her and someone else, like Heero Yuy. At least then she would have some quiet.

_'Sorry,'_ Quatre responded mentally. She felt the poker in her insides again, and yelped.

_'Tell me you didn't just roll on your side!'_

_'It hurt me too. I wasn't thinking when I did it. It's a habit.'_

'Honestly, if I didn't think it would hurt me, I would kill you.' She rolled into a ball under her covers.

_'I'll try to be quiet now. Goodnight.'_

"There's nothing good about it," Dorothy muttered. Quatre held to his word, and was quiet long enough to allow her to fall asleep.

***

"There has to be a way to control this thing," Dorothy said groggily the next morning. "I can't seem to get away from your thoughts."

"Well, I don't hear everything you think. I only feel it when your emotions are particularly strong," Quatre mentioned. She shot him a look.

"Then there has to be a way to control _you_," she corrected. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare say it."

"Okay I won't. Why don't you tell me how you keep yourself in check?"

"There's nothing to tell," she responded. "I just don't want to share my heart with the world. So I don't. But you, on the other hand, have this totally open attitude. Typical heart-on-your-sleeve type. It's no small wonder I hear everything." Quatre bit his lip, but kept from apologizing out loud. He did so mentally, and she growled a curse.

"Oh, right," he remembered. "You can hear me."

"Loud and clear," she groaned. "Try this. You don't want me to know. Try thinking something, but not making it obvious that you're thinking."

"…I don't understand." Dorothy made a small frustrated sound and closed her eyes.

_'Like this, you-'_ He did not hear the rest of what she had been thinking. She opened her eyes again.

"Did you get all of that?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Good. I didn't want you to hear the last part. Or maybe I did, but I wanted to see if I could stop myself. You're going to need some practice at it."

"Sou," he agreed. "Ne, do you think we can control the touch thing that way too?" She considered the question.

"Not a bad idea," Dorothy grudged. He reached for her hand; she jerked it away. "Not yet, though. I said I don't want you touching me."

"Sorry." As soon as he said it, he reprimanded himself mentally. _'Baka, she just told you to stop apologizing.'_

'Control,' Dorothy told him.

_'Oh! Sorry!…Oh!'_ She sighed, exasperated.

"This is going to take some work."

***

Duo Maxwell adjusted his sunglasses as he waited impatiently in the car outside of the last OZ base. He loved being the driver in a getaway vehicle, but it was the waiting that killed him. And when working with someone as meticulous as Heero Yuy, one could always expect a long wait.

"C'mon, Heero," Duo grumbled, drumming his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. They had taken on the task of attempting to wipe out the last remnants of OZ since the battle in space. Although the leader, Treize Khushrenada, was dead, that did not stop the organization from trying to thrive. This time they were working without the Gundams; it was less conspicuous and, in his opinion, more fun.

The American boy turned at the sound of gunshots. He saw Heero running in his direction, bullets flying after him. Heero clawed his way up the chain-link fence and pushed over the barbed wire. He landed on the other side of the fence, and dashed for the car. Duo gunned the engines, and sped towards his partner. They met halfway, with Heero jumping into the passenger seat of the Jeep. As soon as the other boy was seated, Duo took off like a shot.

"How'd they spot you, Perfect Soldier?" he shouted above the roar of the engines. Heero did not reply, but reached under his seat for a high powered semi-automatic rifle. Duo kept one hand on the wheel, and grabbed an Uzi from under his own seat. He glanced into the rear-view mirror, and noticed eight other Jeeps pursuing them.

"Here they come," Heero muttered. He pressed the button on the detonation device, and the base behind them lit up, then exploded. Two of the Jeeps stopped, turned around and headed back to the base. The other six continued the chase, firing on the boys. They ducked down, Duo keeping his foot on the pedal and steering blindly. They waited for the firing to lighten up, which meant the men were reloading.

"Set?" Duo asked.

"Hn." Heero undid his seatbelt, and turned around to face the Jeeps behind them. Duo leaned out of the window on his side. Both pilots fired their weapons. Heero managed to hit both the driver and front passenger in the first car, while Duo blew out both the front tires. The car swerved out of control and knocked into the Jeep behind it. Both cars rolled to the side and came to a stop.

"Score!" the braided boy cheered. Bullets shot through the glass of the windshield, making him and Heero duck again. The Japanese boy growled a curse, then got back up amidst the bullets. "Hey, are you crazy?! Get back down!" Heero ignored the other boy and returned fire. The windshield shattered, sending glass flying into his back. Heero grunted, readjusted his sight, then continued to shoot. His bullets littered the hoods of two cars, as well as their windshields and grills. A bullet pierced his shoulder.

"Reload," he ordered, sliding his gun down to Duo. The American tossed Heero the Uzi, and with his free hand changed the clip of the semi-automatic.

"The airport isn't too far from here now," Duo called. His side mirror was shot, and shattered. He felt a sting on his left cheek. "Goddammit! Heero, give me the Uzi and brace yourself!" The boys switched weapons, and Duo slammed on the brakes. He made a sharp turn, so the car spun 180 degrees. He put the gears in reverse, and started to drive backwards. "Easier shooting, ne?" he grinned as he and Heero fired straight ahead now. The lack of a windshield made this task much easier. Another Jeep went careening out of sight.

"The airport gates are right behind us," Heero reported.

"Then get the plane ready!" Heero nodded, and pulled out a remote. Across the airfield, a small commercial flier's engines started up. Duo backed through the gates of the airport at full speed. He reloaded his gun, then glanced over his shoulder. "What runway are we on again?"

"15-A." Bullets flew over their heads.

"I don't think those guys are gonna give us a chance to stop and board peacefully. Any ideas?" Heero nodded, and pointed to the runway that the plane was on. Shrugging, Duo headed for it, still driving backwards and returning fire. The plane taxied down the runway, and started to take off.

"Get as close to the side door as you can," the Japanese boy commanded. Duo gave him an incredulous look.

"Tell me you're not suggesting that we leap onto a moving plane from a speeding car going backwards!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Heero asked. Duo gritted his teeth, and pulled up next to the plane, which was already a few feet off the ground. Heero pressed a few buttons and the cabin door on the plane opened. He fired a few more rounds, then undid his seatbelt.

"Hey! What am I supposed to do?! I'm the one driving!" Duo shouted as Heero prepared to jump.

"Your problem," he shrugged as he leapt from the Jeep to the plane.

"Son of a bitch!" Duo howled, undoing his seatbelt. He hit the brakes again and turned the car back around, then pulled up again so that he was next to the door on the plane. A Jeep pulled up on his passenger side. Cursing, Duo ducked down as bullets pierced the side of the car and plane alike. The American set the car on cruise control, and lifted his foot from the pedal. The soldiers were shooting from front to back. Wait a second…what side of the car was the gas tank on?

Not wanting to wait to find out, Duo scrambled out of his seat and pushed off from the car. He caught on to the edge of the door, just as the plane increased altitude. Below him, the Jeep he and Heero had been driving exploded, catching the soldiers' Jeep in its flames.

"Huh. Guess it was the passenger side," he mused as he pulled himself the rest of the way inside and shut the door. "Thanks a million for waiting to help me in," he called to Heero. There were shards of bloody glass all over the floor. Speaking of glass…

Duo touched his cheek and found a laceration. There was something sticking out of it; he got a good grip on it despite the blood, pulled out the piece of glass from his face, and dropped it on the floor with the others. He walked to the cockpit, where Heero was sitting in the pilot's seat. The plane was on autopilot, and the Japanese boy was busy bandaging his arm.

"Well, some run huh?" Duo said, plopping into the other seat. "Man, I'll be kinda sad when this is over. With all this excitement, I don't think getting a jolt from coffee is gonna cut it." Heero finished with his arm, glanced up at Duo, and then grabbed the controls of the plane. "Man, being your partner in crime sucks!" Duo groaned.

"We'll hit the next one in a little while," he told the American.

"Yeah, yeah." Duo rolled his eyes and got back up. "Where's the gauze?"

***

The sounds, the smells. Trowa sighed, and hefted his bags in his arms. It was good to be home.

Catherine came into view; she spotted him, and started to run in his direction. She slowed when she came within a few feet of him.

"Hey stranger!" she smiled. "Looking for someone?"

"My sister," he said. "Has anyone seen her?"

"Well, if you stay awhile, I might be able to help you find her." She reached out and took a bag from him, then slipped her arm through his. "Good to have you back, Trowa. Is everything done with?"

"Yeah," he said as they began to walk back to the tent together.

"Good! Then maybe you won't mind staying for more than a month this time!" He gave her a penitent look.

"I'll try."

"I'm glad. It gets awfully quiet when you're not around." Trowa blinked, stared at her. "You know what I mean," she laughed.

"Aa," he said, understanding.

"Well, we'd better get a move on. You're back just in time for the 6:30 show!" They entered the tent, and Trowa was greeted by the smiles and waves of the other circus folk.


	3. Genesis Gundam: Chapter Two

Genesis Gundam

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters, machines, etc. Comments, please.

Genesis Gundam

Chapter Two

The wind blew gently, stirring the grass and his hair; he wore it out now, because he was not fighting any longer. He frowned down at the gravestone, elaborately decorated for such a horrible man. Wufei squinted as he read the inscription. It was laughable.

Another gust of wind; he hunched his shoulders and pulled his jacket tighter over his body. Then his mind wandered back to that day. Back to her.

"It's done, Nataku," he whispered. "I've avenged you, and justice has been served." Why, then, did he feel so hollow? Was it because the victory was not really a victory? He had gone into the battle expecting to die, only to win because Treize had charged at him. Had forced him to react the way any warrior would. Then the OZ commander had rocketed up and been blown to pieces.

Wufei shook his head. That wasn't the reason. Was it because he realized now that even though the man responsible was dead, it would not bring his wife back? There was a void in his life, it was true. He'd known that for some time. He'd been aware of this since…

"Wufei?" He whirled, only to find three women watching him, two of which had bouquets. Sally Po had been the one to call his name. Her, he tolerated. But the other two, Noin and Une, made him want to spit. The latter had scraped and bowed at Treize's feet, submitting to every little whim he had. She had red roses. And as for Noin, he'd held her in contempt since they had first met; that night at Lake Victoria when she hesitated to kill him. Plus she was as bad as Une, but with Zechs. She had white roses. Disgusting.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Une narrowed her eyes at him.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said.

"They came to see the graves," Sally interjected. "I said I would come with them. You know, for emotional support."

"They would need it," Wufei grudged. He was aware that both Noin and Une were glaring at him. Good. "And what do you mean graves?"

"Zechs and Treize," the doctor explained. That was right, Zechs' headstone was here too. Wufei snorted.

"The dead don't need to be remembered this way. Actions are a much better way to remember them." He stopped, glanced at Zechs' grave, then back at Treize's. "Not that they had ideals to act on."

"Listen to me, you little-" Une began.

"Zechs isn't dead," Noin interrupted. Wufei blinked at her rapidly.

"Then why are you visiting his grave?" he asked her, condescending. She walked past him, and placed the bouquet near the headstone.

"I visit this place out of respect. It's as close as I can get to seeing him. Until he comes back, I can at least remember him."

"You," he informed Noin, "are a bigger fool than I thought. At least Une accepts Treize's fate. But you cling to Zechs like a parasite. He is dead, woman. There's no life left to suck out of him." Noin looked up at him, glowering, then started to smile.

"And what would you have me do, Wufei? Name a Gundam after him?" The Chinese boy bristled.

"You should leave," Une said. "I don't care what you say about him. I know that Treize-sama was indeed a great man. No angry teenager on an ego trip can change that." Wufei laughed.

"Just like the inscription says, ne? General, Leader, Inspiration. They left out murderer."

"And what would that make you?" the brunette returned.

"The savior, I suppose." He cast a glance at Noin. "But no, that would be Zechs, wouldn't it? Since he's going to come back from the dead." He turned and started to leave, knowing fully well that if they had the weapons, Une and Noin would have killed him. "Stay on and worship them like they were gods. I'm done here."

"That bastard," Noin sighed once he was gone.

"Someone needs to teach him a thing or two," Une added, placing her bouquet down. "Any volunteers?"

"Let it go, ladies," Sally said. "He's just a messed up kid."

***

"Heero? Hey, Heero!" The Japanese boy took his eyes off the sky long enough to glare at his partner. "About time you responded. That bandage on your arm is looking kinda red. I think we should change it." Heero gave him a skeptical look.

"Leave the bandage alone, Duo."

"Look man, I'm not going to be slowed down because my partner got gangrene in his arm and had to have it amputated. Just put the damned plane on autopilot and let me set the bandage. I don't care how perfect you think you are. No one can set a bandage well with one hand." Heero frowned, and pressed the button for autopilot.

Duo sighed, and led Heero to the back of the plane. He pulled out the first aid kit, and started to unpack it. Heero undid the bandage, which had started to drip blood.

"…What's that bump?" the American asked. Heero gave him a look. "Aw man! I know that's not the bullet!"

"What else would it be? Like you said, one person can't do that good a job."

"Jeez, why did I say I would help you? How am I supposed to get that out? We don't have a pair of forceps small enough." Heero dug into the kit, and showed Duo a scalpel. "Christ! You're not serious!"

"Do it."

"Okay," Duo sighed. He dabbed at the wound with alcohol, then dug the knife into Heero's skin. Heero did not struggle; instead he relaxed his muscles to make the job easier. The knife went deeper into his flesh, until it bumped into the bullet. Duo moved the scalpel until it was under the bullet, and dragged it out. He held it up for Heero to see. "Souvenir?"

"Just finish up," the Japanese boy growled. Duo doused Heero's arm with alcohol again, applied some antiseptic, and wrapped a fresh bandage over the wound. He tied a tight knot, then went to wash his hands.

"All done! Now if you'll give me a sec, I'll start on the ones on your back."

"Scratches," Heero told him. He coughed, and frowned at the tart taste in his mouth. He swallowed quickly, ignoring the fact that it was blood. "We'll worry about those later. I'm going back to flying. We should be landing soon." With that, he walked slowly back to the cockpit.

"Man," Duo said. "Didn't even flinch once. He's a hell of a guy."

***

Quatre placed a palm against his forehead, looked at the five cards in his hand and thought furiously. "How was that?" he asked, glancing hopefully around his shoulder at Dorothy. They had been practicing this blocking drill for hours now. He had his back to her, so she couldn't see the cards.

"Not bad," she said. "But you're still shaky. I got the ace of spades, and the four of hearts." At least he was showing signs of improvement. Quatre sighed.

"This is hard," he complained. "And why are we even doing this?"

"Because if I have to go one more night with you in my head, I'll kill you," she informed him. The Arabian boy sighed again, and reshuffled the deck. He picked out five cards, and held them face down.

"Ready?"

"Just go." He flipped the cards up and looked at them. At the same time, he concentrated on keeping her from knowing. This gave new meaning to the term Poker face. She was silent for a few minutes. He kept the cards in view, but refused to give up.

"Well?"

"…Nothing." She turned around and smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time today. "I didn't get a thing!"

"All right!" he cheered, throwing the cards into the air. "I've got it."

"Maybe tonight I'll be able to get some sleep," she said. He nodded apologetically, but did not say anything. And if he was thinking it, she wasn't picking it up.

"Now what?" he asked. "Do you want to try…"

"Oh, that." Dorothy frowned, shrugged. "We both need to practice at it. If that can even be controlled."

"I think it can," Quatre responded encouragingly. "But we have to try."

"Your confidence is almost as annoying as your apologies," she sighed as she raised a hand. Quatre slowly lifted his own, and pressed their palms together. The golden glow returned, engulfing them both. Dorothy winced at the feeling of Quatre, picking and weaving his way through her mind. It was very disturbing, yet at the same time oddly soothing. Like he belonged there.

She pulled away from him at that last thought, scowling. He didn't belong anywhere near her! Quatre took a deep breath, opened his eyes.

"I didn't feel you," he said, confused.

"…I wasn't even thinking about looking in your mind," she replied hastily.

"I know. You were too uncomfortable with having your own mind open." Quatre looked her in the eye, suddenly serious. "You didn't even try to keep me out. I saw a lot, even if it was such a quick…session." It was an interesting thing to call what just happened.

"Yes. So?" she prompted. He continued to watch her carefully.

"I was just saying that I saw a lot. More than I did the first time. That means aside from a natural state, there must be two extremes: Locked out, and completely open. That was all."

"…Let's try again, then. I'll concentrate this time, and go for the other extreme." He nodded and lifted his palm; Dorothy could still sense his concern, and she wondered just how much he had seen.

***

They landed the plane a few miles away from the base, and used motorcycles to ride in. Duo wondered briefly just where Heero got all of these vehicles, but he couldn't really put anything past the other boy.

"How long until we get there?" he called.

"Not far," Heero responded. The Japanese boy swerved to the right, and they both stopped a few yards away from the base. "You go around to the left side, and start setting explosives. I'll take the right side. We work our way towards the center of the base, then we escape."

"You're the boss," Duo grinned. They boys rode in opposite directions. Slowly and carefully, they worked their way inside the base, and left a plastic explosive ever ten feet. "Leave it to Mr. Perfect to make such a big deal out of blowing a place up. I say just take the Buster Rifle and blow it to pieces if there isn't going to be a car chase," the American muttered as he pressed a sequence of buttons. The light on the explosive went green, indicating that it was on standby. He touched the bandage on his cheek and smiled. "Then again, I can't be doing too much damage to this face."

It had been about another ten feet. Duo slapped the explosive against a nearby door. As he was setting the code, he read the words on the glass. "Archives, huh? Might be something useful." As soon as the light was green, the braided boy pulled out his lock picks. After a few twists and turns, the door slid open. Pleased, Duo crept inside. All of the archives were on computer files. That only made his job easier.

He sat down in front of one of the screens, booted up the computer system, and cracked his knuckles. Duo tried several of the basic OZ pass codes, and was pleased that one of them worked. He began to skim the files, finding a few juicy ones and setting them aside on the taskbar.

A gun cocked behind his head; he gulped, and turned around slowly. Heero lowered his gun.

"That could have been any soldier, baka," Heero told him coldly. Duo let out a breath.

"But it wasn't. So don't look for excuses to scare the crap out of me."

"The mission is to destroy the base. It's not to recover data."

"Yeah, but this stuff could be useful! Just check out these schematics, weapons designs, even plans to…hey. What the hell's an 'Other'?" He clicked on the file, only to find it heavily encrypted. "Goddammit," he muttered.

"We need to go," Heero said, his voice unusual.

"Not without this. Give me your palmtop." Heero reached into his pocket, and handed over his small computer.

"Make it quick," he growled. Duo attached the computers, and started downloading all of his selected files. After two minutes, he had everything he wanted.

"All done!" he announced, unplugging the palmtop and turning around. Heero was leaning against the desk. He coughed. "You okay, man?"

"Let's go." The Japanese boy started to walk out, but faltered. He coughed again, and blood came out of his mouth. Duo jumped up from his chair and caught Heero before he could fall.

"Dude, what's the problem?" He felt something wet on his hand, and looked down to realize it was blood. A dark stain had started to spread on Heero's tank top. Duo pulled up his partner's shirt, only to find a large bandage that was crimson and dripping. "Why didn't you tell me you were shot here?!"

"We need to get out of here. I'll fix it once we get back to the plane," Heero said, shoving away from Duo and standing up again. He walked a few feet, but collapsed before he reached the door. Duo looked up at the ceiling and cursed.

"Why?" he asked. He turned off the computer, pocketed the palmtop, and ran to Heero. He tossed the other pilot's arm around his neck, and wrapped an arm around Heero's waist. "Ya crazy ass. What kind of idiot ignores a gunshot wound to his stomach? You'll be lucky if you live," he muttered, looking around to make sure no guards were coming. He slipped out, dragging Heero with him.

"Stop! Who are you?" he heard someone behind them say. Duo swore, and looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"Don't mind us, fellas! We got lost from the tour group! We were just leaving though! Bye-bye!" With that, he broke into a run. The soldiers behind them set up their guns, and opened fire.

Duo ducked behind a corner, and rested Heero against the wall. He dug into his partner's pocket, and pulled out the detonator for his half of the explosives.

"I tell ya, I didn't sign on for this! You owe me an all expense paid vacation after this one, pal!" he told Heero as he pressed the button. The entire right side of the base exploded. Bits of debris and shrapnel flew from around the corner, and screams could be heard. Duo waited for the fire alarm to sound, then picked up Heero again and started to run. Just as he'd planned, most of the guards had been called to the right side to help take care of damages. Using the confusion and panic to his advantage, they were able to make it back to the where Duo's motorcycle with very little trouble. He hefted Heero onto the bike and rode about a mile away.

"And now, just for fun." He pressed the switch for his own explosions, and watched the rest of the base reduce to rubble. Satisfied, he rode back to the plane, and got it into the air before going to check on Heero. Duo yanked the other boy's shirt off and grimaced.

"Man, _not_ cool!" he exclaimed as he lifted the bandage off. The wound was deep, and Heero had already lost a lot of blood. This wasn't something he could handle right now. The boy would need actual medical care. But they needed to go somewhere that wouldn't ask questions. Duo patched Heero up as best he could, then checked the map for their coordinates. There was nothing close by that he knew of. Unless…

In a little under an hour, if he rearranged the flight pattern, they could reach the Sanq kingdom. Relena would let them stay there, and have Heero taken care of. She would ask questions, of course, but only after she was sure Heero was safe. Still, having to be around Relena for any stretch of time was…

Heero groaned on the table, and spat up more blood, and Duo dove for the radio. He could deal with Miss Prissy for a little while. Heero's life was at stake. He checked the frequency, and clicked it on.

"Mayday! Mayday! Come in Sanq kingdom!" Nothing. Then some static.

"Roger, aircraft. Identify yourself."

"We don't have an identification. But we have an injured pilot and need to touch down. Patch me through to—" he almost choked on the words "—her majesty Relena Peacecraft."

"I'm sorry, aircraft, but unless you have ID-"

"Tell her it's Heero Yuy!" Duo yelled. There was static, then dead silence.

"Hello? Heero?"

"Princess, this is Duo."

"…What are you doing? They said it was Heero on the line. They said you had an injured person."

"Heero's the injured person!"

"What?!"

"He's got a bullet in his stomach, and he's lost a lot of blood. I don't know how long he has until he's-"

"What do you need? Where are you?" she asked frantically.

"In a plane, not too far from you. About an hour, less if I put the engines on full."

"Land in the airport and-"

"No. No police, no hospitals. I don't know if you remember or not, but we're terrorists, babe! They catch us, and we're as good as dead anyway!"

"…The palace has a private airstrip. You can land here."

"Good! Have a medical team ready, with a surgeon to get that thing out of him, someone to put a few stitches in on his back, about a liter and a half of plasma for a transfusion-"

"He's lost that much blood?!" Relena howled.

"I'm guessing, princess!" he shouted back.

"How could you let this happen to him?!" Duo gritted his teeth; now _he_ was to blame for Heero being an idiot? As if life wasn't bad enough already.

"Look, just get it all ready for when we land!" he snapped. "Have them meet me at the plane!"

"Fine! Hurry!" Duo switched off the radio, then turned the plane in the right direction. He put the engines on full throttle, and was pinned back into his seat from the speed.

"Hang on, buddy!" he called to Heero, though he was sure the other boy couldn't hear him. "We'll be there in no time!"


	4. Genesis Gundam: Chapter Three

Genesis Gundam

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters, machines, etc (sadly). C&C is always nice!

Genesis Gundam

Chapter Three

"Catherine! Trowa!" The siblings turned at the call of the manager. He sprinted over to them, and ran his hands together nervously.

"What's up?" Catherine asked.

"It's about the 8:45 show."

"That's not for another eight hours," Trowa noted.

"I know that! But here's the thing. Annie and Aaron have to leave right after the 6:30."

"The Ace Highs are out? What for?"

"Annie's sister is having a baby. Aaron said he would drive her there, since it will beat taking the bus across the entire colony."

"So we're going to be one act short for the rest of the night?" Trowa asked.

"Maybe not. You two have some experience on the high wire, right?"

"Yeah, why?" Catherine said, suspicious.

"Well, I was thinking-" the manager started

"We are not going to do their act and then ours," Trowa told him.

"Oh, you two have me all wrong! I wasn't suggesting you do that!" They both looked at him, surprised. "I was going to ask if you could do your act _on_ the high wire, and make it last a little longer." Trowa closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he said, crossing her arms.

"Why not?" the man pleaded.

"It's hard enough on the ground, without having to worry about falling with knives coming after me."

"I'll pay you both double."

"Triple," Catherine corrected.

"What?!" her brother and the manager said in unison. She shrugged.

"Pay us triple," she repeated. "Plus double on the next show, and we'll do it."

"That's robbery!" the manager exclaimed.

"No cash, no act. It's our lives, you know. You don't like it, you go up and try it," Catherine said calmly.

"…Fine! Triple on this show, and double on the next. But your show had better be fan-freaking-tastic, or else!" He shook hands with Catherine then left. Trowa stared at his sister for a few seconds.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "You think I'm crazy."

"Am I that transparent?" She smiled and poked his forehead.

"Yes, but it's okay. I would think that about me too."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because the money is good, and we can do it."

"Catherine, I don't know about this." She rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Neither do I! Neither will the audience! But that's what makes it fun! It's a circus, bro. Let's live a little!" He relaxed as some of her confidence spilled over into him. He wished they didn't she didn't have the ability to cloud his better judgement; it was going to get them into trouble one of these days.

"…Fine."

"Great! We only have from now until 8:45 tonight. We should start practicing."

"If we want to live, yes." Catherine grinned at him, and Trowa allowed himself a small smile.

***

Duo's fingers flew over the keys on the computer. He'd been working on breaking the code on this one file ever since Heero had stabilized. Relena had been true to her word yesterday; she'd had Heero rushed into the infirmary of the palace. They'd dug the bullet out, filled him up, and sewn him up, all in a matter of hours. The princess had spared no expense on doctors. Still, Duo had taken great pains to avoid her ever since then. He couldn't stand being around her for any reason. It made him physically ill.

He refrained from cursing aloud as yet another attempt failed. It was a standard sixteen-digit code. The problem was that there was no pattern that he could see. The American sighed; he was good with technology, but Heero was better. So he was stuck trying random sequences until one worked.

"At this rate, I'll crack the code by the turn of the century," he muttered unhappily.

"You! There you are!" Duo sighed, and looked over his shoulder to find Relena approaching him. "Where have you been?"

"Here for the better part of a twenty-four hour stretch. Why?"

"Don't you even care that Heero could die?" she hissed.

"He's stable now. I'm sure he'll be fine. I mean, he's been through worse, sister."

"Oh, like the time you shot him twice? It's no small wonder you're not concerned." Duo narrowed his eyes at her.

"If I wasn't concerned, I don't think I would have brought him here." He turned his eyes back to the computer screen. Relena huffed behind him.

"Honestly, Duo. Some things are more important than computer games."

"Wow, I'm impressed you remember my name. And this ain't no computer game, babe."

"Would you stop that?" she demanded.

"Stop what?"

"Calling me belittling nicknames, like sister or babe."

"…I don't mean anything by it." That wasn't entirely true, but he didn't feel like hearing it right now.

"I don't care what you mean by it. Stop it."

"Okay, okay. Gotcha. No more nicknames." He ignored her for a moment, tried another code.

"What exactly are you doing?" she asked at last. Duo grinned.

"Not much, just my usual idiot work," he said. She blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me. Idiot work. That's what you think I am, isn't it?"

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to. I can tell by the way that you talk to me, the way that you look down your nose at me. Heero's little braided tagalong buddy who brings him in when he loses too much blood, ne? You think I'm a certifiable, Grade-A moron. Don't lie."

"I wasn't lying about anything," Relena argued. He raised an eyebrow at her, absently typing in the next sequence.

"Oh, so you _do_ think that about me! I knew it!" he exclaimed. She growled something unintelligible, then stormed off. As soon as she was out of hearing range, Duo started to laugh. "Pissing her off is so fun and easy they oughta make it illegal!" The screen in front of him went green, and Duo blinked. The last code had worked! "Well, this must be my lucky day!" He started to read the document, eager to know what needed to be kept hidden so well.

***

"Where's Une?" Sally asked. "I thought she was going into town with us."

"She's staying in her hotel room. Something about cramps in her stomach," Noin said, noncommittal.

"That time of the month?" the doctor laughed. Noin smiled.

"Probably. I didn't ask. I don't want to know."

"My, that's so considerate of you."

"Hey, don't get me wrong! Une isn't that bad…from a distance." Sally gave her a look. "It's hard to become close friends with someone that smacked you across your jaw, Sally."

"Une's not that bad."

"I didn't say she was. Look, I don't dislike her. And I understand what she's going through with losing Treize. But there's always going to be some…tension between us."

"Aa. I see what you're saying." They walked out of the hotel, looked left, then right.

"I still don't even know why I'm going out."

"Because you need some fresh air, that's why. Doctor's orders!"

"Oh, sure! Pull rank why don't you."

"I am, and we're going. Let's go left."

"No you don't! With my luck we'll go left and run into Wufei. He's probably still in town, and I don't feel like dealing with him. So we're going right." Sally shrugged, and they started walking.

"…Hey! What makes you think going my way is going to lead us to Wufei?" she asked.

"Dunno. He just seems to show up more when you're around. Well, seeing him again is the last thing on my list. So we'll go my way."

"Aw, come on. Yes, Wufei can be an asshole. But inside," she tapped her chest. "He's a good kid. You two have just had a few bad encounters. Give him a chance. Maybe you'll get to know one another, and then you'll see he's not as bad as he likes to act."

"I don't have the time or the interest to get to know Wufei. You, on the other hand, seem more than interested…"

"Don't start with me. Just because I defended him does not mean anything of that sort."

"Sally, I think you're jumping to conclusions here. I wasn't saying anything like that! I would never!"

"Good."

"Mrs. Chang," Noin coughed. Sally glared at her.

"I should kill you."

"But you won't."

"And what's stopping me?"

"Two things," Noin told her. "One, you're too nice, and it goes against your whole helpful doctor mentality. Two," she smiled. "If I die, you're left alone to deal with Une and her cramps."

"…All right, Noin. You win this round. But as soon as the time is right, you'd better watch your back!"

"Oh, I'll be sure to. Now, where do you want to go first?"

***

"Thanks for covering for us," Annie said as she helped clean up after the spectators from the 6:30 had all left. Catherine waved her off.

"Don't worry about it. You're doing us more of a favor than you realize." Annie raised an eyebrow.

"How much is he paying you? Double?"

"Triple. Plus double on the next show," Catherine said. Annie whistled.

"Hot damn. Maybe we should ask for a raise," Aaron said.

"If you can do the knife throwing act on a high wire, then be my guest. I'm sure the manager would give it to you." The other performers laughed.

"No, we'll leave the knife throwing to you and Trowa!" Aaron told her.

"Suit yourself," Catherine shrugged. "You're missing out on a great deal!"

"Heh, I'm sure." Annie checked her watch. "Whoa, look at the time! We'd better get a move on if we want to be there in time to see the baby."

"Just a sec. Are you two sure you're going to be all right up there? It can get kinda shaky if you don't do it all the time. Plus with the knives…"

"I think we can manage," Trowa said. The other two nodded.

"Right. Good luck you two!" Aaron said as they left.

"And thanks again!" Annie called.

"I still don't believe I let you talk me into this," Trowa sighed once the other two were gone.

"Oh please! Give me a break, bro! We've practiced a million times since this afternoon!"

"We only practiced twenty-five times. And that's because I said ten wasn't enough."

"You worry too much, Trowa. Now help me get everything set up," she said, climbing up the ladder to the high wire. Her brother sighed a second time, then climbed up after her.

***

"Wow, this sure is a lot of data. I hope the computer can translate it all," Duo said as numbers ran across the screen. The file he had was decoding itself now, and it was taking quite a while.

He heard a cough from the doorway, turned to look, and jumped in his chair.

"What the-…what are you doing here?!"

"The infirmary was easy to get out of, if that's what you mean," Heero responded, walking slowly towards his partner. Duo got up and pulled a chair closer for Heero to sit. The Japanese boy did so, gingerly.

"Shouldn't you still be in bed?" Duo asked.

"If I could walk all the way here, I don't need to be in bed. What are you doing?"

"Oh, uh, checking over the files we took from the last base. I could've used your help on this one. Took me forever to crack the code."

"Did you crack it, or use random numbers until you got it by luck?"

"…You take the sense of pride out of everything," Duo mumbled.

"So, what was it?"

"Not sure yet. The file is decoding itself now. But from what I can tell, it looks like a document."

"Hn. This is taking too long." Heero reached over, and pressed a few keys. The decoding speed doubled.

"…You also like to show off."

"Shut up. It's finished now." The screen blinked once, then the document loaded.

"Hmm, the images wouldn't load, huh? I guess we'll have to do without them. At least this thing is divided into sections."

"We'll start with the summary." Heero scrolled to the top of the document, and started reading. "Project #3243752126-9A. Authorization has been given by our backers to carry on with our process. Two of the subjects we used were taken three years before the other eight. So far we have seen no adverse effect due to this. Using numerous methods of gene therapy (see section 6 of this document for specifics) we were able to 'remake' our test subjects as we saw fit. The subjects were paired off accordingly.

"The aim of the project was to create the perfect fighting machine. This was thought to have been accomplished about a year ago, with the creation of the five mobile suits-"

"Hold on!" Duo said. "Do they mean ours?"

"I don't think so. This is an OZ document. So it must mean something else."

"Like what?"

"Let me read, and we'll find out." Duo was quiet once again. "However, the pilot of each mobile suit was slowly driven insane by our program. It was believed at one time that the program inside the mobile suits was too much stress on a human brain. This is not true. What was happening was that over the course of time, the human brain started to, for lack of a better word, meld with the CPU of the mobile suit. Pilots grew into the suits, and vice versa. While the pilots became colder and detached from other people, the computers of the mobile suits grew 'emotions'. Rather than simply calculating tactics for battles, they would come up with ways to keep their pilots safe. This was a failure, and the CPUs had to be replaced. When the pilots were given new suits, they were alone, and unable to reattach. Needless to say, being robbed of the closest thing to them drove many of our pilots insane.

"It was then that we came up with a proposal. If the pilot already had something as close to them as the mobile suits became, then they would not have the ability to attach to the CPU. The problem was, what to attach the pilots to? The answer was another pilot.

"Modifications were made to the mobile suits, allowing them to have two pilots each. This is where our test subjects come in. By reconstructing their DNA, we have made it so that each one is the opposite of their counterpart, or 'Other', as we have deemed them. Thusly, they fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Because of this compatibility, there is no need to look for further companionship. So there should be no attachment to the CPU of the mobile suit. This concludes the summary. Please read on for the full extent of the experiment."

"What is this? Some kind of a joke?" Duo asked. "This is ridiculous! And if these people exist, then why didn't we ever seen them in the war?"

"This is only a summary of the aim of the experiment. There's a lot more to it," Heero reminded him. The American snorted.

"Yeah, yeah. And let me guess, the suits all fit together to make one really huge ultra fighting robot with a big sword!"

"…What?"

"Never mind." He rose from his chair and stretched. "I can't believe I spent so much time on this. What a gyp."

"Think about it. If the coding was that heavy on it, there has to be some truth to it."

"Whatever, Heero. Look, you've had some rest. Why don't _you_ read through it. I'm going to get some sleep!" He saluted his partner, then left the room and jogged upstairs.

"Baka," Heero said under his breath, turning his attention back to the document. He opened up to the next section, and started reading.

***

She scowled as she walked into the room and turned in a slow circle. She knew that Quatre was in this room; there was no where he could hide that she could not find without a single thought. To that extent, she had narrowed it down to this room. But he wasn't in plain sight. This wasn't a game of hide-and-seek. It was terribly childish.

__

'Is not!' Quatre argued. At least this 'exercise' beat the other one. Dorothy decided that she would never get used to it. Rolling her eyes, she opened the closet door, and was not surprised when he stepped out.

"How did you know?" he asked, disappointed.

"I heard you, even if you weren't speaking. How could I not?"

"Oh right! I forgot about that!"

"Plus, it's not like you can crouch behind anything with that stomach."

"I get it, I get it. Well, it's your turn to-"

"I don't think I'll be hiding anymore." He sighed.

"Okay. I guess we could eat lunch, then."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes you are. You're almost as hungry as I am." Dorothy frowned at him. He was right, though she couldn't be sure whether or not her hunger was merely a reflection of his own. "See? Come on. It feels weird when you're not around, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded as they started walking.

"I don't know. But it's true." Again, he was right.

"I'm never going to get out of here," she muttered. As much as she hated it, being around this soft little boy felt good. Or at least right.

"Is it that bad?" he asked. "Being around me, I mean."

"It's not," she admitted. "I'm just trying to make sense of it. I mean, you're basically the anti-me."

"No I'm not." She stared him down. "Yes I am."

"Exactly. So why have I been here for three days now? Why the connection? Why is it that when I do this--" she touched his shoulder "--we get a glow and the connection thing gets stronger?"

"I don't know."

"I wasn't asking you!" Dorothy snapped. He wore a puzzled and hurt look, which made her feel guilty. Guilt!? That never used to be a problem! "Let's just go eat," she sighed. "Maybe I'll feel better after that." He nodded and followed her, uneasy.

***

Trowa stood on his platform, waiting for the ringmaster to announce him. Behind him, Catherine fiddled with her knives.

"One slip up, and this could go right through someone's head."

"If you're trying to reassure me, it's really working," he said.

"Just making sure you stay on your toes, little brother."

"Right, sure." He heard his name, and then the spotlight was on him. Trowa raised both of his arms, and leapt from the platform. He did a front handspring, rounded off, did a back handspring, rounded off again, and ended with his triple axle flip. The boy landed gracefully right in front of the target board that hung above the high wire. The crowd roared.

"Show off," Catherine mouthed. She stepped onto the high wire, and a second spotlight was turned on. Trowa hoisted himself onto the target board, and felt the clamps tighten on him. The action was computerized for this, because there was no one else in the show the manager trusted enough to be up there.

Catherine walked on her hands back and forth for a moment, to the crowd's delight.

_'Now who's showing off?'_ She got back to her feet and struck a dramatic pose, wielding seven knives in each hand.

"And now," the ringmaster said, "Catherine takes aim, preparing to throw knives so sharp that they could split a hair at her own brother!" The typical 'Ooo' and 'Ahh' echoed throughout the circus tent. The first knife flew in Trowa's direction. It hit the board just to the right of his chest. She held two knives this time, and they smacked the board on either side of his head. People clapped and cheered.

_'Wonder what they would do if I missed.'_

'I really don't want to find out.'

"Do you want more?" the ringmaster demanded. Another deafening scream. Catherine rolled her eyes, and jumped into the air. She landed in a front split, and threw a knife near Trowa's crotch. Whistles, 'Whoa!' and 'That was too close!' from the audience. His sister got back to her feet and tossed a knife to herself carelessly.

"Do you think that would work on my husband?" some woman shouted. Everyone laughed at the joke, even Trowa. This was how he liked the circus. The crowd was participating, the performers were having a great time. When everyone was together under that tent, like a family.

It all happened so fast. Catherine was preparing to throw her next knife. At first he thought he had only imagined the bullets that cut through her. She looked shocked herself. Though she never said a word, he could hear her cry out in his mind as shots continued to riddle her body. 

Before he was fully aware of the situation, there was the pain. The searing pain in his stomach, chest, and neck, threatening to make him swell up and explode. The scream of the panicking people, the sound of the animals, frightening as well, everything became secondary to what should have been killing him. But it wasn't.

Trowa shuddered and convulsed violently. Unlike his sister, his lungs were whole, allowing him to scream.

Catherine's body went limp, and she slipped from the high wire, falling and landing gently on the net below. She was still, and from where he was, looked peaceful. The hurt in his body told him otherwise.

The stress was too much; Trowa stopped moving. He wasn't breathing, his heart wasn't beating. His brain went dead.

Just like Catherine.


End file.
